Chapter 3Too Late, I’m Not Yours Anymore

Nathan blinked, then scoffed. “You? Fragile? Emily, I’ve seen you work through a 103-degree fever and show up to the casino at six a.m. Don’t make this about competition. Chloe’s not built like you.”

That was it, wasn’t it? Nathan only saw the version I built for him—efficient, tireless, too strong.

“Well,” I said, calmly, “you’re right about one thing. I am strong. And thanks to my strong, I didn’t break down when I saw you left our engagement party with another woman.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out the engagement ring. The same one he slipped onto my finger with a promise he clearly never meant to keep.

“I loved you, Nathan. For years. But I won’t tolerate being abandoned on one of the most important nights of my life while you play out your second-chance fantasy with someone else.”

I handed him the ring. “I’m not here for drama. I’m here to end it. Congratulations on reuniting with the love of your life. Clearly, she’s the only one you’ve ever loved.”

He didn’t speak right away. Just stared at the ring. Then, as casually as if I’d handed him loose change, he took it and slipped it into his pocket.

“You’re being dramatic,” he said. “I’ll hold onto this. When you’ve calmed down, then we can talk about whether or not the wedding’s still on.”

“Don’t bother. I am calm right now,” I said coolly, “And please tell your PR team to make a statement about our relationship. I’m tired of being trashed online every day because people still think I’m clinging to a man who’s already left.”

Nathan frowned. “How can I control what the public say and do? You knew what it meant, being with me. The public eye, the noise. If you can’t handle that, then maybe we were never right for each other.”

I didn’t answer. I just turned and walked away.

…

I didn’t even make it home before my chest clenched—tight, sharp, like someone had reached inside me and squeezed.

Was this what heartbreak actually felt like?

I sank onto a bench beside the street, clutching the edge of it like it could anchor me to the earth. My breaths came short and fast. Too fast.

You’re okay. You’re not breaking. Not here. Emily, you’re alone—but you are strong.

I repeated it like a mantra, forcing the air in and out. Eventually, my heartbeat began to fall back into rhythm. The tightness faded, leaving a hollow ache behind.

That’s when I heard a voice behind me. “Are you alright?”

I turned and saw Jake. His brows were furrowed, his tone softer than usual.

“Did Nathan send you?” My voice was sharp. What a coincident, each time I turned, Jake was there. Had Nathan sent him over to check on me?

Jake shook his head. “No. I’m here because I was worried. You don’t look well. Let me take you to the ER. Just to be safe.”

“No.” I straightened my back. “I didn’t sleep much, that’s all.”

I couldn’t go to the hospital. The tabloids would have a field day.

The woman Nathan Brooks left at the altar now hospitalized—heart too weak to handle rejection.

No, thanks.

“At least let me take you home.”

I blinked at him. “Will you tell Nathan that you have bumped into me?”

Jake smirked faintly. “No. I will only tell him that I was running a personal errand.”

I smiled, just a little. “Then okay. I guess catching a cab here would take all night anyway.”

…

A month passed. Chloe’s account continued to post like clockwork.

Nathan making breakfast. Nathan walking her through the park. Nathan picking out handbags while she pouted beside him. Nathan holding her hand at the Elite Casino like she was already Mrs. Brooks.

I did my best to avoid them at work, but not from the internet.

Anonymous accounts started slipping into my DMs like roaches in the dark.

“You were never good enough for Nathan.”

“He and Chloe are perfect. You’re a joke, Emily.”

“The ugly duck tried to steal the prince.”

I deleted them, over and over. But they kept coming. Different accounts. Same venom. Like they knew just when my armor cracked.

I wanted to say it didn’t affect me. That I was above it. But even the strongest girl has a limit.

And somewhere in the quiet of those nights, I started to wonder… Were they right?

Chloe was the beginning of Nathan’s story. The heartbreak that lit the fuse. The reason he became who he was—the drive behind the empire.

It was almost foolish for me to think I could rewrite that narrative. But to be fair, at one point, I thought I had.

Nathan introduced me to his mother, took me to meet the friends he’d grown up with.

So when he said I love you and I want to make you my wife, I believed him.

I was so happy. I even let myself dream past the wedding. Kids. A family. Nathan cradling our baby while I watched from the porch swing, barefoot and smiling.

I should’ve known.

Nathan began coming home late this year. Meetings, he said. Unexpected business. Long hours at the casino.

Maybe that was when it began, the rekindling between him and Chloe might have started way earlier before our engagement party.

I noticed the signs. But I told myself he was just busy—he was the boss, after all. He had empires to run, investors to charm, deals to close.

Not once did I doubt him.

And now as my mind keeps trying to make sense of it all. Trying to put logic to heartbreak. But the truth is, I’ll never really know what Nathan was thinking, whether he loved me or not.

I stood up, my limbs slow and heavy, and walked to the closet. In the farthest, deepest corner, I found the dress.

Our engagement gown. The one he said made me look like a dream. I pulled it out and slipped it on again. The silk still held the scent of lavender and Nathan’s cologne.

I stood in front of the mirror and gave a small twirl. Then I picked up the scissors.

Snip. One cut. Then another. The fabric split.

The tears came fast, but I didn’t stop. Maybe I’d been holding everything in too long. Maybe it was not only grief, but also rage and regret and awakening.

Then it hit me—that tight squeeze in my chest. The one that never meant anything good.

It was like a fist, closing in from the inside. The darkness surged forward, fast and final. My knees gave way.

Still conscious, I fumbled for the prescription in my purse. Took it, hoping it will buy me enough time for an ambulance to arrive. Then my phone, my hands shaking, vision gone blurry.

SOS.

I hit the emergency call, even as regret clawed through me. I'd changed my contact list before the engagement party.

The first person it would call…

Was Nathan.

And he might be too busy to notice. Or worse—he’d see it, and choose not to.